


Give Me Mercy No More

by sweetoctopodes



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Royai - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relationship Discussions, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 18:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20679800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetoctopodes/pseuds/sweetoctopodes
Summary: After the events of the Promised Day, Roy and Riza both find themselves reliving their traumas over and over, and they only trust each other to understand. Somewhere in the midst of trying to make both Amestris and themselves whole, they keep finding their way to each other and are forced to face the feelings that bubble beneath the surface. With the nation wrestling with the political fallout and both of their careers and livelihoods on the line, finding a way to be happy seems almost impossible - or is it? From the rocky desert of Ishval to the beautiful cityscapes of Xing to the imposing mountains of Drachma, Roy and Riza fight for what they believe in, for both their nation and each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about how these two might get together after canon. I kept starting stories with adventures and peril and then it hit me - these two deserve some soft mutual pining before we get to the peril. Tags will be updated as I go since...lots of things will happen. The rating will likely go up at some point as I know there will be at least mild sexual references in the next chapter. Please feel free to reach out to me at beauslesbianopinion on tumblr, I love comments both on here and screaming in my inbox. 
> 
> Y'all are the best for keeping this fandom alive for so long.

Roy barely sleeps his first night in the hospital after the Promised Day. He keeps looking over to get a visual on his Lieutenant but then he remembers he’s in total darkness. She’s there, he just can’t see her. He probably won’t see her again. Every time he manages to sleep it’s only nightmares. He relives every second in vivid, horrible detail. And half the time he loses her in his arms. Mei is a second too late, or she chooses the stone over Riza, or she just coughs up blood in his arms. It doesn’t matter how it happens, he just sees her dying in his arms over and over. His dream self sobs over her dead body, whispering to her lifeless form how much he cares about her. 

When he wakes, he finds himself stuck in the darkness. He can’t even hear her breathing, and it makes him panic. His heart races and to the darkness he calls out, “Lieutenant?”

Silence. He wonders if this is still a dream, if her dead body still waits for him somewhere in the inky blackness.

“Lieutenant, are you there?” The anxiety is evident in his voice as it cracks with emotion. His heart feels like it’s going to burst from his chest. And then he hears a shift in her movement. 

“I’m here, Colonel.” 

Her voice alone calms him down almost immediately. He realizes that he’s been breathing heavily from the panic. He still half expects this to be a dream after all. Roy hears the bed sheets rustle, footsteps quietly crossing the cold hospital floor. And suddenly his hand is wrapped in hers and he feels safe.

“I’m here.” There’s a certain unsteadiness in her voice. He still somehow manages to read how she’s feeling even without his sight. She isn’t okay either. He sits up and leans closer to Hawkeye. He’s used to her presence, but the blindness makes it harder to place his hand on top of hers. Mustang suddenly finds himself very worried about his Lieutenant. 

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. 

There’s a pause as she sits down next to him on his bed. “No.” 

He squeezes her hand and feels hot tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hawkeye.” His hands move up to cup her cheeks. She predicts his move and leads him there. She lets her forehead rest against his, very careful not to move her head too much should her wounds decide to open again. “I don’t know...I don’t know what I would have done if…” His voice breaks. “If I had lost you.”

There’s a dampness on her cheeks that wasn’t there before. He brushes his thumb against her face, wiping the tears away as best he can. 

“I’m still here,” Hawkeye says softly. “When they took you...when they forced you to open the portal I was so terrified that I would never see you again. I was powerless to do anything to stop it from happening. I’m so sorry, sir.”

Roy doesn’t say anything for a moment. Her touch, her pulse, it’s comforting to him. She’s alive. “It wasn’t your fault, Lieutenant. It wasn’t our fault.” He pulls her in close and wraps her in his arms. And ordinarily she might protest but she hasn’t been sleeping either. She keeps dreaming of him returning from the portal bloodied and broken. 

“In my dreams, I keep seeing you die in my arms. And if it isn’t that I see the Truth killing you to punish me.” He can feel her shaking, silently sobbing. 

“My nightmares are similar. Only, Truth returns you with nothing but your soul just barely intact.” There’s so much more she wants to say about the whole affair that gets caught in her throat, not yet ready to make itself known yet. She isn’t ready to share about the strangled breathing she wakes with and the fear that Pride still looms in the shadows. So much is unspoken, but they have time. They stay like that, holding each other through the night to know they’re both still alive. It beats sleeping and seeing the nightmares. 

“The sun is rising,” whispers Riza. “The nurses will be in soon to check on us.” Her feet slip back onto the floor. 

“Thank you for sitting by me, Hawkeye. It makes the darkness a bit easier.”

She’s silent for a moment. “I didn’t do it entirely for you, sir. Thank you.” She swallows, uncertain of admitting how much she needed his presence next to her just as much as he needed hers. Throughout the day she keeps quizzing him on things he would need to know as the future Fuhrer. It keeps both of them occupied, especially when the rest of the team shows up to help. All of them have been through war at this point. Did they all have nightmares like this? The atmosphere grows friendlier and lighter as they enjoy each other’s company. Breda brings books and Fallman and Fuery both bring food and music. And there’s a part of it that feels like a celebration that they’re all alive. 

And then Marcoh steps in with his offer and Roy accepts. Hawkeye hopes it’s the right decision. 

There’s a flash of alchemical light as Marcoh works and at first, Roy can still see nothing. But the darkness turns to grey, and they grey turns to light. The light begins to take shape and he sees Marcoh’s hands at first before looking around at his friends. He looks over and sees Hawkeye smiling at him. 

It’s going to be okay. 

Only, even after they’re discharged it’s still not okay. Because Roy still has his nightmares and they only get worse. He automatically looks for the Lieutenant before remembering that she’s at home with Hayate and probably faring better than he is. Feeling restless, he opens his liquor cabinet and picks something. He doesn’t even care what it is, he just downs it in one go and pours himself another drink. He’s still awake, dammit, and he just feels miserable. Roy absentmindedly stumbles to the phone and dials Hawkeye’s number.

“Hello?” she answers. He feels a little calmer just hearing her voice. “Hello?”

Roy realizes he hasn’t actually said anything yet. “Hey, Hawkeye. It’s me the Colonel.” She knows who he is, he chides himself. 

“Colonel are you okay? You sound kind of drunk.” Her voice is filled with concern. 

“Mmmm fine. Don’t wanna be alone. Alcohol issa good friend,” he slurs. Whoops, maybe he had more than just two drinks. He can’t really remember. He didn’t black out, he doesn’t really care. 

“I’m on my way over with Hayate,” she says. “Get yourself some water, I’ll be there in ten.” She hangs up the phone and Roy makes his way to the kitchen to get water. The Lieutenant told him to. She’s always right. 

Riza isn’t sure why she offers to go to Mustang’s house. Maybe it was the anxiety that he would accidentally hurt himself while drunk, or perhaps he would do something incredibly stupid in this state of mind. Or perhaps, she thinks, she wants his company, too. Perhaps taking care of him is a selfish act for her to feel like she is good and kind and  _ useful _ . Or maybe she just feels less scared when she’s with him. She puts Hayate’s leash on and the two of them begin to walk toward Roy’s house.

His lights are still on by the time she gets there, a fact she’s grateful for. She hasn’t slept in the dark ever since her encounter with Pride. That is if she can help it. The hospital always kept the lights down low at night. She knows where Mustang’s spare key is and lets herself in. 

“Hawkeyeeee. Whatcha doin here?” asks a very drunk Mustang. 

Riza just shakes her head. “I came to make sure you didn’t pass out in your own vomit, sir.” Only partially true. Hayate wags his tail and barks a greeting to Roy. Roy smiles and drunkenly pets the dog. “Do you have any coffee? It’ll help sober you up.”

Roy shrugs. “I think in the kitchen? Help yourself to some alcohol, Lieutenant,” he says, gesturing to the empty bottle on his table. “Oh whoops, someone drank that whole bottle.”

“One of us should stay sober, sir.” She hands him a glass of water. “Drink.”

Roy sips it and makes a face. “This alcohol sucks.”

“It’s water.” She heads to the kitchen to make some coffee. She probably won’t sleep much tonight, if at all. Hawkeye isn’t just worried about Mustang, she’s worried about herself sleeping alone, knowing if she panics she’ll only have Hayate to calm her down. Which usually gets the job done, but some nights she wakes in a panic, her hands posed as if holding her gun. And on those nights she’s never quite sure where she is or if the Colonel is alive or not and it terrifies her. And maybe this is just the excuse she needs to let herself wake and find him safe. 

Once his decaf coffee is ready she takes it out to the table only to find him slumped over, sound asleep. She hauls him off the table and practically carries him to bed, leaving him another water and aspirin for when he wakes up with a hangover. Once she’s done, she drinks the coffee and locks his doors and windows and curls up on the couch with Hayate and attempts to sleep. 

Sure enough, Roy wakes to find himself horribly hungover. He vomits in the toilet (he’s pretty sure he makes it to the toilet, at any rate) and drinks the water. He walks to the kitchen, grumbling all the way. He finds Hawkeye there already drinking coffee, fully dressed with Hayate still at her side. 

“Did we sleep together last night?” he asks, genuinely confused. Why is the Lieutenant in his house? “Why are you here?”

Riza nearly spits out her coffee. “You must be drunk, still. If by sleep together you mean drunkenly calling me and saying you didn’t want to be alone and then passing out before I could finish making your coffee, then yes. If by sleep together you mean literally anything other than that, no.”

Roy’s face gets hot with embarrassment. “I am so sorry, Hawkeye. I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have made you come over. I must have sounded ridiculous. Wait, are you the one who put the painkillers on my nightstand?”

Riza just nods and hands him a cup of coffee. “With as much alcohol as it looks like you had, I’m surprised you’re not feeling worse. I figured a little bit of help from some painkillers might give you a bit of an advantage.

Roy’s face feels hot and his mouth is dry. He takes a sip of coffee. Wonderful, bitter coffee. And oh god food. He needs food. His stomach lurches at the thought. Maybe not food just yet. He lets his face drop in his hands. “I feel like such an idiot, Hawkeye. Why’d you even bother staying? You could have just given me the painkillers and gone home like any reasonable person.” 

Hawkeye smirks. “Yes but then I wouldn’t get to see the look of shame that you have on your face right now.” She turns away. “Also I fell asleep on your couch before I could bother going home. Hayate did, too. I hope you don’t mind that we sort of accidentally made ourselves at home.” 

Roy feels his stomach twist into knots and he imagines it’s from the hangover and  _ not  _ the fact that it was so easy for Hawkeye and Hayate to make themselves at home here and what  _ could be _ if things weren’t so...complicated right now. “I don’t mind. It’s nice seeing such a friendly face judge me this early in the morning.” He glares at her before finally deciding he’s at least ready for some goddamn toast or something and making his way over to the toaster. 

“You’re welcome, sir. And on that note, I’m heading to work so I can be only somewhat late. I’m sure I’ll see you at the office eventually. Enjoy your morning, Colonel.” Hayate barks in agreement as Hawkeye salutes at him and leaves. 

“You’re mean, Hawkeye!” he shouts at her as she walks through the door and winces at the volume of his own voice as his door slams shut. Ow. He feels like shit but somehow he still finds himself staring wistfully at the place where Hawkeye once stood. 

The rest of the day passes uneventfully for Hawkeye, somehow. The Colonel eventually does show up to work but he’s late enough that he works through lunch and stays late. Ordinarily she might stay late with him but she’s already worried that she’s crossed a line by staying with him last night. She does, however, buy him some pastries from a shop not too far away and leave them on his desk for him to munch on when he inevitably gets hungry later and forgets to eat. He’s insufferable when he’s hungry. He’s always insufferable, but it’s always worse when the Colonel is hungry. 

“Miss Hawkeye!” 

Riza grins as she turns around to see her elderly neighbor. “Good evening Ms. Hopkins. I told you, you’re more than welcome to just call me Riza if you prefer. I’m not on duty right now.” Riza at least tries to be friendly with her neighbors, but for some reason, she had a soft spot for the elderly widow.

“Oh but it feels inappropriate to call you that anymore! I read in the newspapers about how you and that dashing Colonel of yours helped protect Central a few weeks ago. It’s incredible!” She holds up a newspaper, looking genuinely amazed. 

Riza can’t help but chuckle. “I’ve been serving our nation since I was old enough to enlist. I’m just doing my job to protect the people of Amestris.” And technically nothing in that statement is untrue. Riza really has been attempting to protect the people of Amestris this whole time. Still, what people like Ms. Hopkins didn’t know is just how  _ guilty  _ she felt all the time for the things she had done in Ishval, things she had done after enlisting as an idealistic, naive eighteen-year-old girl. They sent a girl who had barely reached womanhood onto the battlefield to kill. To commit genocide. And no, it wasn’t right of the military to do that to her, Homunculi be damned. They were all complicit. Every single one of them. And no amount of good in the world would take away the blood on her hands. Protecting people? Riza wished that really was her job description, but she was far beyond thinking that was a realistic expectation of her role as Lieutenant. 

“Want me to make you a cup of tea?” asks Ms. Hopkins. 

Riza smiles. “You do always make the best tea, Ms. Hopkins.” 

“Oh please, just call me Pam. I’ll go get a kettle going.” With that, Pam scurries off to go find some tea to share with Riza. Riza takes Hayate out for a brief walk before Pam comes back with a full pot of tea to share.

“Chamomile. It’s my favorite. I’m sure your job is stressful, and I find a nice cup of chamomile helps settle my nerves,” Pam says, pouring the tea. 

“You know, most of my neighbors are scared of me, Pam,” says Hawkeye. “But not you. Why is that?”

Pam pauses and thinks for a moment. “You seem very kind if a bit lonely. You’re still so young with so much life ahead of you! Do you have any suitors, by chance?” 

Riza audibly snorts. “I doubt that would happen anytime soon, Pam, but you’re too kind. I’ve dated before and it’s not for me, at least not currently. I’ve got too many other things to work on with the military, I don’t have time to waste dating someone who will inevitably break things off because I’m too married to my job.”

“Well, what about that handsome Colonel of yours?” 

Riza nearly spits out her tea. “The Colonel? That’s against military policy. It exists for good reason, too. Between power imbalances and the potential for deadly favoritism, the anti-fraternization laws are a  _ good  _ thing. Besides, the Colonel isn’t exactly the type to settle down, certainly not with me.” 

Pam almost looks disappointed, and Riza isn’t exactly inclined to disagree. She can’t count the number of times she’s sat awake at night wondering how things might be different if only...if only things weren’t quite the way they were. If he was a little less dedicated to his job (no matter how much of a slacker he pretended to be), if only she wasn’t so set in her own ways, her own habits and patterns. If either of them could actually talk about feelings at all. If Riza could admit to herself the jealousy she feels every time he goes out with another woman (even if it’s only for information). If only she could just stand there and tell him to just  _ kiss her _ already. For all the ways they know how to communicate, the heart is the hardest one to actually explain. And the  _ last  _ thing Riza wants to discuss with her neighbor if she’s totally honest. 

Riza takes a sip of her tea. 

“You know I didn’t meet my Harold until I was nearly thirty. I feel grateful for all the years I had with him, you know. At least he got to meet the grandkids,” she says. “Oh! The grandchildren! They’re visiting on Saturday, and I know they love Hayate. I’d love it if you could stop by on Saturday to say hello, let them play with the dog a bit. You remember my grandchildren, right?”

Riza nods. The names escape her. She’s never been terribly keen on having children of her own and while the thought of spending time with someone else’s grandkids sounds almost horrifying in its own way, she finds it hard to disappoint Pam. Thankfully, this time she actually has a valid excuse. “I’m sorry to say I’ll be tied up with work all weekend long, so the odds aren’t great. If I manage to find some free time though, I’ll see if I can work something out. Your grandkids are pretty great.” 

Riza feels bad for wanting Pam to leave. For all of her excellent tea and good company, she had a tendency to linger. There’s only so much she can hear about dear Sophia’s musical talent and Johnathan’s athletic inclinations and little Peggy’s shy precociousness. She quickly finishes her cup of tea. 

“Would you like another cup, dear?” 

“Thank you, but I have other work that needs done tonight here around the house. I’m sure we’ll see each other around, though. You always seem to have a cup of tea ready right when I need it.” She embraces the older woman before she leaves. “Good to see you, Pam. Tell the grandkids hello for me.” 

“Have a good night, Riza dear!” 

Riza almost sighs in relief when she leaves. As nice as the company (and tea) is, she’s more than ready for a quiet night at home. Everything had been non stop since the Promised Day, and they weren’t looking to slow down anytime soon. She takes the clip out of her hair and runs her hands through her hair, taking deep breaths as she does so. And ever so slowly, the stress of the day wears off as she prepares herself some dinner and curls up with Hayate and reads a book.

The shadows of the evening stretch across her apartment floor as she reads. And then the shadows loom over her, around her. Riza’s entire body stiffens as they grip her arms and legs and her entire body. She feels Pride’s torment all over her skin. Riza struggles to breathe as she searches for an escape, for a scream, for anything. She sees Pride’s lurking form hovering in the corner of her apartment, always smiling, his eyes always watching, his teeth always ready to devour her. 

Riza wakes in a panic. She hadn’t realized she’d dozed off while reading. Hayate licks her hand and Riza can’t help but tremble. She holds Hayate as best she can but there are parts of the apartment that are still dark. And even with Hayate’s presence grounding her, she still doesn’t feel safe. Every small flicker of light feels like death to her. Absentmindedly, she finds herself reaching for the phone. It’s when he actually picks up that she realizes who she’s called. 

“Lieutenant? Is everything alright?” the Colonel asks. 

It takes her a moment to find her words. “I’m fine, sir. I just…” Her mind quickly races to make up an excuse. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t drunk again. Do you need anything, sir?” It’s a shoddy lie and they both know it. 

“No, after last night I decided to try and stay sober for tonight, at least. Are you okay, Hawkeye?” 

She doesn’t answer. She can’t. And she can’t ask him to come over because that would be inappropriate, yet that’s exactly what she wants. Why else would she have called him? Why is his voice the only voice she wants to hear after waking up from a nightmare?

“Just a bad dream is all, sir. A memory. I’m sorry to have bothered you,” she says. 

The other end of the line is silent for a moment. “It’s not a bother, Hawkeye. Do you want some company?” 

A lump rises in Riza’s throat and her stomach twists anxiously. “I can’t ask you to do that, Colonel.” She bites her tongue before she can say what she really wants to say:  _ yes, please, I don’t feel safe in my own apartment right now. I need someone else to look after me right now. _

“I’m on my way.” The line goes dead and Riza sighs. He knows her so well. Too well, really. Because she didn’t ask him, and yet he knew. He always knows. And sure enough, ten minutes later he knocks on her door. 

He looks just as tired as she feels. They’re both out of uniform by this time of evening. And the Colonel looks at her with that expression of worry and concern and she’s almost furious with him for knowing too much.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” he says as she shuts the door behind him. 

Riza crosses her arms over her chest. “Not at all. I’m glad for the company, honestly. Please, have a seat.” 

He sets a hand on her arm and Riza closes her eyes. “You don’t need to be so formal, Hawkeye. What’s wrong?” His voice is soft and gentle and his touch is even gentler. 

She bites her lip for a moment and then takes a deep breath. “Did I ever tell you how I learned Selim Bradley was a homunculus?” 

Roy frowns but follows her to the couch as she sits down. He sits next to her. “There was never a good time if I recall. You had to give me the original message in code. I wondered about it, to be sure, but that kind of intel from you isn’t exactly intel I’m willing to question.” 

Riza swallows the bile in her throat as she begins to recount her story. “I don’t think I slept for weeks after that. Not without the lights on, at any rate. I still...I still feel the shadows on my skin some nights.” She lets out a breath of air. “You called me that night. Offered to give me flowers.” 

Roy looks away from her, feeling a bit sheepish. He remembers that moment all too well. A pity she didn’t own a vase, really. “I...I had gotten my own intel that night. The flowers were strangely a part of it, although I didn’t realize how many I’d purchased until it was too late.”

“You also asked me what was wrong. I didn’t even have to say anything,” she says. 

Roy laughs. “Yeah well, you didn’t berate me for getting drunk and buying a whole cartful of flowers like I thought you would have.” He says it playfully, but Riza doesn’t laugh. 

“Is that...is that all I do to you?” she asks. “Do I just berate and bully you?” It’s a lapse in her confidence, a scarce moment not of self-awareness but of fear and insecurity.

Roy’s heart stops in his chest for a split second. “God, no! I didn’t mean...Hawkeye, you…” he can’t find the rest of his words and it infuriates him. He takes a deep breath. “I owe you my life, Hawkeye. You inspire me every day.” It’s the truth if nothing else.

Riza refuses to acknowledge the way her gut twists with emotion at his words. “You were right, by the way. That was the night I’d discovered the truth about Selim. I’d only just gotten home after the incident when you called. Before I heard your voice I was terrified at what it might be, what kind of threat might be on the other line. Maybe that’s why I called you tonight.”

“I’m glad you did. I...I worry about you sometimes, Hawkeye. You’re always so strong and serious. It took everything in me not to run over here that night and ask what he did to you. Although if I had known it was Selim and not Bradley that had hurt you...I really don’t know what I would have done.”

It surprises both of them when she leans her head on his shoulder. “Probably something stupid,” she teases softly. The physical affection isn’t something she’s used to giving or receiving, but there’s a part of her that desperately craves it at the same time. 

Roy brushes her bangs out of her face, fingers gently brushing against her forehead. “Yeah, probably.” Riza’s amber eyes stare up at him for a moment and his heart skips a beat. He coughs, realizing that he’s staring at her, her eyes, her lips and what would happen if he kissed her right now. “I should probably get going,” he says. 

Before he can even attempt to stand, Riza shakes her head. “Stay, please. I don’t want to be alone tonight; I don’t feel safe. Having Hayate by my side hasn’t been enough.” Her voice shakes ever so slightly. It’s almost mortifying, in a way, letting herself be vulnerable in a way that lets someone else know that she’s not okay, that she needs someone other than her dog to stay by her side and make her feel safe. And she’s always felt safe with the Colonel. It is mortifying, being seen and being known, but there is something altogether beautiful and healing about it as well.

Without warning, his arms wrap around her and hold her tightly. “I’ll stay.” 

Riza exhales and it feels like a pressure lifts from her chest. She curls herself into his embrace. “Thank you.” She rests her head on his chest and focuses on her breathing. And slowly she begins to drift off to sleep. 

Roy feels stuck. He wants to move but he can’t bear to wake her. For the first time in a long time, she looks peaceful, like she’s actually getting some rest. He knows her sleep habits are just as bad as his, she just drinks coffee instead of taking secret naps at work. And to see her this way, head on his chest, his arms around her… it makes him feel things. And for a moment he wonders if this is what it would have been like every night if they were not soldiers, if they did not stand as officer and subordinate. If they would come home after a long day of working and curl up together on the couch, their dog sleeping at their feet as they hold each other and drift away into a dream of their own design. Would things be different between them had they not chosen this path? 

Of course, he isn’t fooling himself -- though he tries. In the brief moments of respite, his mind wanders to her. He’s felt this way for  _ years _ , even if he can’t even admit it to himself. It overwhelms him; he can’t bear to put that kind of pressure on her. His own feelings are a burden and he knows he has to bear it alone but  _ God  _ what he wouldn’t give to just hold her all night just to make sure she feels safe and loved. His heart catches in his throat and before he realizes it himself, he’s gently carrying her to her bed. He needs to leave before he thinks about waking up to the sunlight on her face first thing in the morning, her flaxen hair spread out on the pillow. 

Still, he holds her close to his chest as he carries her and gently sets her down in her bed, pulling the blanket over her. 

“Mustang?” she asks sleepily, barely waking up from her sleep. 

“I’m going home, Hawkeye; I just wanted you to be comfortable.” 

She nods sleepily. “Goodnight, sir,” she says, still so perfectly formal in her half-awake state. “Thank you.” 

His hand lingers on her shoulder. “Anything for you, Hawkeye.” With that, he makes sure the door is locked behind him and he heads back to his own very empty apartment. And despite the fact that he’s lived in this space for several years, it no longer feels quite like home. 

When Riza wakes, the apartment feels surprisingly empty. She recalls the night before and her face flushes. She hasn’t slept that well in months, and for a brief moment, she remembers the way he carried her to bed and then left. Roy Mustang may have a reputation as a womanizer, but in all of the time she’s known him he’s never been anything other than a perfect gentleman toward her. Even when he’s drunk he never makes any untoward comments.  _ A very low standard _ , she thinks to herself.  _ Still, it can be rare to find that in the military _ . There’s a part of her that wishes he would have stayed last night. As she gets ready for the day, there’s a knot growing in her stomach, a knot full of  _ what-ifs _ and  _ what could be _ . She marks the date off on her calendar and remembers that her birthday is in less than a week. 

_ Shit _ .

She’s never been one to celebrate her birthday seriously. As a child, she mostly was on her own for her birthdays. Her father rarely paid any mind to them and her mother died before they were able to celebrate much at all. Her work friends, though? Rebecca always demanded to take her out for drinks at least, and in the past, the boys always made an effort to do something for her. It’s been a crazy year for her, and she deeply hopes that everyone will be too busy to forget her birthday this year. She can only hope. 

And yet there’s a piece of her that hopes the Colonel will at least remember. She puts her head in her hands.  _ I thought I was over this _ , she thinks.  _ I thought I was over him _ . She’s not supposed to have feelings for her superior officer, let alone one who’s put the power of his life in her hands. She’d had feelings for him before but every moment spent together was both wonderful and agonizing, reminding her that there is far too much to be done for her to actually entertain the idea of those feelings. She’s always been good at suppressing her own emotions: especially any sort of romantic or sexual feelings she might have toward her superior officer. She’d shoved these particular emotions away long ago and yet with how close they’ve been since the Promised Day, they’ve resurfaced and she hates herself for it. 

She’s better than this. At least, she tries to be. It’s not fair to either of them to have these sort of feelings. Besides, there’s no possible way he could ever feel the same way, and even if he did, she knows he’s far too dedicated to his work to actually act on them. These feelings never cause anything but pain in the end. Thus, Riza Hawkeye drinks her coffee and heads to the range to try and get her mind off everything. If all else fails, she can at least still shoot a gun. If she throws herself into her work even more, maybe she’ll forget about how strong his arms feel around her.

* * *

Roy comes into work hungover. It’s not the first time and probably not the last time he will. He’s got a reputation to maintain as a slacking womanizer. The alcohol just adds to that reputation so he truly doesn’t mind. 

But the reality is, he’s just trying to get his mind off the Lieutenant. Only, this time it hasn’t been working. He sees her in his dreams, sometimes dying, sometimes living in domestic bliss with him. He drinks to forget the way her body fits so perfectly against his. Maybe the alcohol makes it worse, he’s not sure. He just wants to forget everything. And it isn’t just her. It’s looking in the mirror and seeing Bradley’s face instead of his own. It’s the fear that he’s going to ruin Amestris, the fear of seeing everything he loves burn to ashes, destroyed by his own hands.

It’s the scars on his hands from Bradley’s swords, the impending feeling of doom he gets any time something goes mildly wrong, the terror that stalks from the shadows. It’s so difficult for him to explain to anyone else the way his mind reels day in and out. Could anyone blame him for trying to lose himself a little bit every night? 

Hawkeye, of course, notices it right away. 

“You’re hungover again, sir.” She doesn’t sound happy about it. “You have work to do that you can barely focus on while sober, let alone still half-drunk.” 

Mustang takes a look at his paperwork. She’s not  _ wrong _ , but he really doesn’t feel like admitting she’s right, either. “I’m fine, Hawkeye. I’ll get all my paperwork done, don’t worry about it.” 

She sighs. “I’m not worried about the paperwork, I’m worried about  _ you _ .” She pauses. “You know I always look things over before turning them in. The paperwork isn’t the problem here.” 

Mustang freezes. He’s caught and he knows it. He should feel glad that she cares about him enough to worry, but for some reason, it just makes him angry instead. “Oh, and you think you’re one to talk?” he asks. “At least my drinking helps me relax and unwind. You, however, just throw yourself into your work so much that you have a perpetual stick up your ass.” The moment he says it, he realizes it’s a mistake. 

Her reaction surprises him, however. First, the rage crosses her gaze. That was to be expected, but what he doesn’t expect is the subtle resignation. 

“I’m sorry, Hawkeye, I was out of line.” 

“You’re right,” she says softly. “You  _ were  _ out of line, that much is obvious, but you’re also right about me. I like working. It keeps me busy, and if I’m busy that means I don’t have to think about everything that’s happened.” 

There’s a moment of silence between them. “We’re not okay, are we?” he asks. It’s not much of a question. 

“We haven’t been in years, sir. Not after everything we’ve done. Still, if this is the price we pay then perhaps it is deserved after all. And we are working to build a better Amestris, even if we don’t get to enjoy it.”

Roy goes home that night and pours every last drop of alcohol he has down the drain. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza has a birthday, Roy does some very sweet things and stupid things, and emotions finally reach their breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello yes I am still alive and writing! Happy NaNo everyone! I'm not technically working on this for NaNo this year, but I had some down time and wanted to work on this a bit. I'm really excited about where this is heading, and I hope you all are too! Switched the rating to M because of some mild mature content. There's no smut in this fic at this point but there is a brief non-explicit scene in this chapter.

Riza’s birthday nearly passes without incident - nearly. Most of her friends wish a happy birthday and get her small, practical things like they know she prefers. A few of them opt out of a gift and just take her to grab some coffee and just spend some time together. 

And then there’s the Colonel.

He remembered because, well, of course he did. He hands her a cylindrical box.

“I know it’s probably not incredibly standard to get your Lieutenant a birthday present, but after the year you’ve had I think you deserve it.” He pauses. “Open it.” He almost sounds like a playful child, she thinks.

Riza does so almost methodically. “It’s...a flower vase?” 

Roy almost looks embarrassed. “You once said you didn’t think you owned a vase. This way the next time someone gives you flowers you have somewhere to put them. I know it’s probably not that great of a gift but…” 

Riza smiles at him. “It’s perfect. Although I don’t think anyone is going to give me flowers anytime soon. But thank you. It’s very thoughtful of you.” It’s incredibly thoughtful, actually. And there’s a part of Riza that almost hopes he’ll offer her flowers again. 

Roy is relieved that she likes it and doesn’t find it too much. It’s a risk, getting her such a personal gift, but he finds she’s very worth the risk. And the way she smiles at him and says thank you makes his heart beat a little bit harder in his chest. His palms sweat and were they not still at Central Command he might consider kissing her forehead. “Enjoy the rest of your birthday, Lieutenant,” he says before finding some excuse to race off somewhere else. 

Weeks pass, and things only get worse. She enters his mind unbidden. They keep calling each other, spending more time with each other in the evenings because of the nightmares. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He calls her because he’s worried, because he had another dream about her dying in his arms, because… because he wants to see her. Because she’s been right next to him in bed and yet he can’t have her. He can’t love her the way he wants to, the way she deserves. He focuses harder on his work than ever before if all else to get her out of his mind. Finally, one night he just breaks. 

_ I just need to get it out of my system _ , he thinks to himself.  _ Then I’ll be over her _ . He grabs his coat and runs down to the nearest bar. He just needs to find someone to have meaningless sex with and get it over with. 

Amid the sleazy haze of the bar he sees her: she’s blonde, and that’s all it takes. He saunters up to her and smiles. He’s open about what he wants. The meaningless sex part, not the attempt to get over a woman he’s never actually been with. She’s an enthusiastic and willing partner and with haste they make their way back to his apartment. 

Riza smells like gun oil and apple blossoms. This other woman whose name he can’t even remember smells like cigarette smoke and jasmine. It’s intoxicating, in its own way. She’s intoxicating. Her body feels good pressed against his, even if part of him is screaming that it’s all wrong. It’s not her. It’s not…

“Riza.” He doesn’t realize he says it out loud until it’s too late. 

The other woman stops and looks at him, pissed. “Seriously?” she asks. “Who’s Riza?” 

Roy stops and tries to stammer out an excuse but nothing comes.

The other woman groans in disgust and gets up to put her clothes on. “Do you even know what my name is? Look, I get that you wanted meaningless sex, but at least have the decency to either remember that my name is Ana, not Riza, or control yourself just enough not to shout out someone else’s name!” 

“Wait!” Roy says, stumbling to put his pants on.

Ana throws open the door and turns around one last time. “And whoever this ‘Riza’ girl is, I hope she knows how much of an ass you are!” She spins and nearly runs into the Lieutenant standing in the doorway in her uniform with a file in her hands.

Oh god, the Lieutenant. How much had she heard? Ana hadn’t exactly been quiet about her anger.

Ana storms off without looking back, leaving just Hawkeye and Mustang standing on either side of the door frame. 

Roy looks down at himself and realizes he’s pretty much a sweaty mess with only a pair of pants on. He can’t bother saying ‘this isn’t what it looks like’ because it’s  _ exactly _ what it looks like. She just stands there with a shocked look on her face, mouth slightly agape.

“Lieutenant, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, closing the door. His face is beet red and he feels absolutely mortified. So much for getting it out of his system, and so much for keeping his feelings to himself. 

“Idiot!” he shouts at himself. Hawkeye knows. She has to know now. She’s not stupid, she’ll put the pieces together and figure out exactly what happened here tonight. Instantly, his mind pieces together his options. He’s going to have to tell her the truth now, there’s no way around that. However, he can potentially do some damage control if he transfers locations or gets a promotion or  _ something _ . He can’t fire her, she’d kill him if he did. Of course there is the off chance that she might not hate him for this, and she  _ could _ respond positively or at least be understanding. Even so, she’d understand the position this would put him in, would put  _ both  _ of them in. 

He’s a fool for falling in love, and an even bigger fool for hoping she might feel the same way about him. 

He waits for her arrival at work the next day but no such moment comes. Roy barely manages to eat anything for lunch and his stomach ties itself in knots all day long. Most people have no idea where Hawkeye might be or why she’s gone, but Fuery thankfully lets him know that “she got a temporary assignment, I think.” 

It doesn’t help any. 

As soon as the work day is over he immediately runs over to her apartment in hopes that he can at least explain himself. Maybe she was just too angry to see him today, or maybe she was too embarrassed. It didn’t seem like her to do that, but maybe he was wrong about her. 

He knocks on her door. Roy can’t seem to stand still as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for her to open the door. 

“Can we talk?” he asks before she can say anything. She welcomes him inside. 

“I’m glad you’re here, actually, I need to talk to you about - “

“I think I’m going to transfer back East,” he blurts out. The sentence weighs heavily in the room. “And if I do, I don’t think I can take you with me, Hawkeye.” 

Hawkeye closes her eyes. This is  _ not _ what she needs right now. “Pardon?” 

Roy looks down at his shoes, then back up at her. “Look, I don’t know what you saw or heard yesterday. But you’re smart; I’m sure you figured it out. The truth is, I’ve developed feelings for you, Hawkeye, feelings that I know I shouldn’t have especially as your superior officer. And it’s become very difficult for me to work with you as a result. So I think it’s best for both of us if I transfer back East. That’s where a lot of the Ishval work is being done, and I think it will be beneficial for both of us if I leave.”

Hawkeye is silent for a moment as she processes the information. On the one hand she’s absolutely elated that he has feelings for her. On the other, she’s furious with him for even considering transferring without her.

“Bullshit,” she says.

“What?” It’s not exactly the response he was expecting or hoping for. 

“I said that’s bullshit. We’ve worked closely for  _ years _ and suddenly you just...have feelings for me and want to leave? Am I just another pawn to you that you can drop when I become inconvenient?” Her voice raises in volume and she steps forward as if to challenge him. 

“No!” 

“Then why the hell would you just transfer without consulting me first?” She shakes her head and presses a palm to her forehead. “You can’t just make that decision without me!” 

“I’m trying to do the right thing to keep both of us safe!”

“Bullshit!” she yells. “Did you stop to consider that I might feel the same way? Did you stop to consider that transferring without me might look  _ more  _ suspicious? It just doesn’t make sense! We’ve gone above the law before to save Amestris, so why are you suddenly so interested in playing by the rules here?” Hot, angry tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I’ve loved you for years against my own better judgment! And despite what your words are saying your actions betray you. You’re fully prepared to leave me simply because what, loving me is too much of an inconvenience? Because I’m a risk, but not a risk worth taking?” She feels bile rising in her throat. 

Roy’s eyes widen. In a horrible way, she’s right. “Hawkeye, I didn’t mean...I’m only trying to do the right thing,” his voice softens. Oh god, what has he done? 

Hawkeye glares at him. “The right thing for whom? For you? For Amestris?” She turns away from him, crossing her arm over her chest as her other hand presses to her temple. She closes her eyes. “Get out.” Her voice is cold and authoritative, almost a low growl. 

“Please, just listen!” he begs. How the hell does he make this right? 

She finally turns to face him and her face is red and damp with angry tears. Mustang hasn’t seen her cry often; he’s not sure if he expected her to be an angry crier, but it breaks his heart knowing that  _ he  _ made her feel that way.

“I said  _ get out of my house _ .” It’s not a request. 

Roy bows his head and leaves in silence. What else is there left for him to say? Whatever chance he might have had with her is gone now; who knows how long she’d stay mad at him for this. He walks home feeling like absolute garbage. He knows, at least in theory, that he should be elated at the fact that she admitted she loves him and has for years. How have they gone on this long without admitting it? He stares at the looming Central Command in the distance. 

That’s how. 

Part of him wants to turn back around and run to her and tell her she’s right, that he shouldn’t care about the possible consequences, that she’s more than worth every risk. And yet part of him understands that she’s absolutely right. He went in there with a plan already in mind - a plan he had made without consulting her, a plan that essentially amounted to just leaving her behind. He doesn’t want to have to choose between the woman he loves and keeping his career goals safe, yet that’s where he finds himself. 

“It isn’t fair,” he mutters angrily to himself. “It isn’t fucking fair.” He shouldn’t have to choose. He helped overthrow the goddamn government and got away with it as a hero. He already has an upcoming promotion to Brigadier General. If he can do that, what does he have to lose? 

“I’m such an idiot.” He regrets tossing his alcohol down the drain but he can’t be bothered to go buy any more. He  _ has _ gotten more work done without it, anyhow. His fear of Hawkeye rejecting him made him develop a bad plan of action, and in turn became the sole reason she rejected him. 

No, it wasn’t his fear. It was his selfishness. If he actually  _ wants  _ to be with her, he’s going to have to be a little less selfish and more understanding. He’s going to have to choose to be with her and be the best person he possibly can be. And most importantly, she’s the one that inspires him to be better. 

Her words ring in his ears:  _ we’ve gone above the law before to save Amestris, so why are you suddenly so interested in playing by the rules here? _

Why indeed? He forces himself to think and he can’t come to any other conclusion but the one she presented to him: being romantically involved with a subordinate would risk an investigation, one that could and likely would jeopardize his dream to become Fuhrer, a dream so close and yet so far away. She was right: he  _ is  _ being selfish. 

He didn’t mean for her to interpret it as  _ her _ not being worth the risk, just the relationship. And yet, that’s exactly what he ended up implying, isn’t it? Somehow, in telling her about his feelings, he told her that she wasn’t worth the risk to him and as such he was going to leave her entirely alone. 

The resulting question burns in his soul: does he actually think she’s worth the risk? Roy closes his eyes. He has and would risk everything for Amestris. Would he risk everything for his own happiness? Being together would so clearly make both of them happy. And why work to become the most powerful man in the nation so he can inspire people to protect the ones they love if he can’t even  _ be  _ with the one he loves most of all? In that case, it’s almost no choice at all. 

Roy swallows down the guilt that’s accumulated over his years in the military, the guilt of his past and his present, the guilt of a future yet to be seen. The guilt that tells him he doesn’t deserve any sort of happiness because he hasn’t earned it yet. 

But if he can somehow earn her forgiveness, that might be enough. Odds are she’s still furious with him. But perhaps by tomorrow she will have calmed down and he can apologize and make things right with her and tell her that he’s going to stay by her side and support her no matter what she chooses to do in this matter. He chooses himself; he chooses her; he chooses  _ them _ . 

It’s with great disappointment, however, that he discovers that Hawkeye is gone for the next few days. Leave of absence, officially, but considering the paperwork was signed by Grumman himself days before their fight, odds are he’s not the cause this time but rather an unfortunate side effect. No, he’s almost certain that her “time off” is just code for an incredibly secretive job, especially if the order came from the Fuhrer himself. He’s going to have to wait until she returns in order to apologize and hope she forgives him. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. 

That evening he stands by Hughes’s grave with a bouquet of flowers. 

“Well, Hughes, you got your wish. I found myself a girl. Only, I pissed her off because I’m a fucking idiot. You’d probably approve of this whole mess, though, deep down. Sure, you’d probably give me a good scolding for it being Hawkeye, but you’d approve. I know you cared about her as much as you did me.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Most of all, you’d just want me to be happy. You’d call me a reckless bastard for risking my career over it first, but I know you’d have my back anyway. You’d ask me if it’s worth it. But we both know the answer to that, old friend. Of course she is. Besides, if someone could domesticate a poor fool like me, it’d be Hawkeye.”

“What would you tell me to do, Hughes? How would you suggest I do this? Romance? Love? This was all your area of expertise, not mine. It always seemed so effortless to you, and you always seemed to know how to approach things when you needed to apologize to Gracia. I don’t even know how to properly initiate a real relationship with a woman, let alone with all of this complicated mess in the way. And I know she’s said that she’s loved me for years but honestly, I’m not sure if that means anything.”

“Roy?” 

Hearing his first name makes him pause his monologue very suddenly and turn around to see Gracia Hughes with a small bouquet of flowers. 

“Gracia… how long have you been standing there?” he asks. 

She smiles sympathetically at him. “Long enough.” 

So she knows, then. Gracia has always been perceptive; it’s entirely possible that she’s not surprised by any of these revelations. She quietly steps forward and sets the flowers at the foot of the grave. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

Roy shrugs. “I’m not sure what else there is to say, really. I love her; it’s as simple and as complicated as that.” 

Gracia stares at the headstone for a moment, then looks at Roy. “You were right, by the way. He’d be happy for you. And my guess is that you haven’t ruined things nearly as much as you think you have,” she says. 

Roy chuckles. “You give me far too much credit. Every time I think I help my case I just make everything worse.” 

Gracia is silent for a moment. “What about what she wants?”

Roy pauses. “Honestly? I don’t know. She yelled at me for trying to make a decision about this without her which I fully deserved, in retrospect. But then she also told me that she’s loved me for years against her own judgment. I thought I was being a gentleman, telling her how I feel and that I’d respect her by transferring positions so that she wouldn’t end up in an uncomfortable position at work. That way we could both continue our careers, especially if she didn’t feel the same way.” He looks down at his right and and stretches it briefly. “I know her like I know my own right hand and yet I can’t figure out if she still loves me or hates me or wants to be with me or wants me out of her life completely. I don’t know what she wants, and I’m not sure she knows either. All I know is that I love her enough that I want to respect what she  _ does  _ want, even if that means being away from her.”

Gracia sighs. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.” 

Roy shakes his head. “I’m trying to quit, actually. I think I make worse decisions when I drink if that’s even possible.”

Gracia just smiles. “A cup of tea, then. I’m sure Elicia would love to see her Uncle Roy, and it sounds like you need someone to talk to about all this.” 

Roy looks down at the grave and then back up at Gracia’s face. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

* * *

Hawkeye scowls into her beer. At least Christmas’s Bar had decent beer, and besides, it was nice seeing some friendly faces around who weren’t a certain Colonel. Her mind is heavy, thinking of the assignment she’d just completed and everything that had happened with Mustang. 

Havoc leans his elbows on the bar. “You look more annoyed than usual today, Hawkeye. What’s got you drinking this alone and upset? And in the middle of the day, no less.”

“It’s four o’clock on a Sunday, Havoc, I’m not exactly day drinking here.” She rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her drink.

Havoc stands up and starts cleaning behind the bar. He stops for a moment and examines Hawkeye. He leans in close across the bar, squinting his eyes. “It’s a guy, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Goddamit, Havoc.” How could someone so dense be so perceptive about things like this?

“I knew it! You’re hung up on some guy! What’s his name? Do I know him? Do I need to kick his ass for you?” 

“Not telling, not telling, and I’ll keep you posted on that last one.” She smiles smugly at the last one. “On second thought, I don’t really think he needs his ass kicked. He’s an idiot, sure, but he’s still a really good guy. Obviously, or else I wouldn’t…” Riza clears her throat. “He’s trying his best.” 

Havoc nods. “There’s a but in there, I can hear it.” 

Riza puts her face in his hands. “I don’t  _ want  _ to have feelings for him. It’s inconvenient! But I don’t know, it’s complicated.” 

“Is he married?” Havoc asks. 

Riza shakes her head. “No, I wouldn’t do that to another woman.” 

Havoc leans back and crosses his arms. “So let me get this straight, you have feelings for him, right?” 

Riza nods. 

“Does he have feelings for you?” 

Riza hesitates. The answer is an obvious  _ yes  _ but she’s not sure how much she wants to tell Havoc about this whole mess. Still, better Havoc than Rebecca. Rebecca might actually figure out who it is Riza is pining for and she’d never let her live it down. “I mean… okay, can I tell you something in strict confidence?”

Havoc nods, grinning. “Cross my heart, Hawkeye.” 

Riza looks around to see if anyone is watching her or listening to their conversation. “I think he might have said my name in bed when he was with another woman, and I really don’t know how to feel about that.”

Havoc’s eyes widen with both shock and glee and he covers his mouth with his hand quickly to stifle a cackle. “Oh Hawkeye, he’s got it bad for you.” 

Riza lays her head on the bar. “And she was blonde, too,” she mumbles with embarrassment.

Havoc can’t help himself and bursts out laughing. 

“It’s not funny, Havoc!” Her face is beet red at this point. 

“Hawkeye, do you have any idea what this means? It means he’s clearly trying to distract himself. He’s crazy about you but trying not to be. And if it’s your name he’s saying in bed? He’s failing miserably. So why haven’t the two of you gone out? I know sex on the first date isn’t really your thing but come on, why haven’t you given this a shot yet?” 

Hawkeye purses her lips together. She really doesn’t want to tell Havoc many more details. “Like I said, it’s complicated.” 

Havoc shrugs. “Doesn’t have to be.” He pauses. “Wait a minute, you’re not sure if you want to date him, are you? You know, people are always telling me I’m afraid of commitment and a womanizer and hey, maybe that’s true, but at least I give things a shot with the people I like.”

It’s a truthful blow and both of them know it, and really, Riza would rather not acknowledge it. But he’s absolutely right. “There are just so many things that could go wrong, Havoc, things that could really damage my life and his. It’s not exactly easy trying to navigate dating and a career with the military.”

“So what, you’re hesitating because you’re scared? Because of a worst case scenario you’ve made up in your head that may or may not even happen? Look, think of it this way. When you’re in the field, do you hesitate shooting for your target even though you might miss?” 

Riza shakes her head. “You never hesitate. Leaves you open to enemy attack. I see where this metaphor is going, Havoc, and I don’t like it. It’s more like...if I miss I’m probably going to explode an entire minefield instead on accident. I can’t take a shot like that in good conscience!”

“You don’t know that, though! Look, I get it. You don’t want to screw things up. You don’t want to get hurt, and clearly you care enough about him that you don’t want to hurt him either. But you’re probably already doing that by denying your feelings like this in the first place. Can I be honest with you?”

Riza nods. 

“I’ve had a hard time dating since Sol -- since I lost the use of my legs. I know I got that back but there’s part of me that’s still having a hard time. My last girlfriend turned out to be an evil homunculus who almost succeeded in killing me and Mustang. One moment she’s my girlfriend and the next minute she’s tearing me to shreds with her freaky fingers. It’s hard to find someone who would understand that. And besides, there’s part of me that’s terrified that my next girlfriend is also going to try and kill me. I’ve tried to date again it’s just...it’s hard. And it’s scary. But that doesn’t mean I’m never going to try again. I like dating; it’s fun for me. And I’m not going to let that nightmare ruin dating for me altogether.”

Riza blinks. She didn’t exactly come here expecting a dating pep talk from Havoc of all people, but amazingly it’s been incredibly insightful. 

“Look, you’re scared. I get that. But you can’t let that fear get in the way of your own happiness. So, does he make you happy?” 

Riza’s gaze softens. “More than anything. I want to be with him in any way I can be, even if being together romantically isn’t an option.” It’s the first time she’s ever truly admitted it to herself, let alone out loud.” 

Havoc lets his fist drop hard onto the bar. “Then what are you waiting for, Hawkeye! Tell him how you feel and kiss his damn face off!” 

“But what if I ruin everything?” she asks, more to herself than to Havoc. 

“So what if you do? You’re Riza Fucking Hawkeye, I’ve seen you come back from worse things than heartbreak.” 

“Dammit, Havoc, I can’t even argue with that point.” She leaves the money for her drink on the bar with an extremely generous tip. “And hey, thanks. I think I needed that pep talk.”

Havoc just shrugs. “You’re one of my best friends, Hawkeye. Besides, you clearly need to get laid and I’m just a humble wingman doing his job.” 

“You’re the worst, Havoc,” she says with absolutely no sincerity in her voice. She walks home quietly, knowing that talking to him about this would be unavoidable. But really, this is far overdue. She knows her truth now; there’s no hiding her feelings anymore or pretending they don’t exist or pretending she’s above doing what she wants even when everything else in her screams at her to be responsible. Maybe staying away from him is the right thing, but if it is, then heaven help her she’s never been so happy to be wrong. 

Almost subconsciously she finds herself knocking at his apartment door. In that brief, tense moment between when she finishes knocking and when the door opens she doubts herself. She can hold a couple of beers, she’s not drunk, she’s hardly even buzzed, why the hell is she here, now? Should she even be doing this right now? Should she even be here at all?

But then he opens the door with a look of surprise on his face and all doubt goes out the window.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, I didn’t expect to see you til tomorrow. Is everything okay?” 

She sighs and bites her lip. No going back. No more being afraid. She looks him in the eye and asks, “Can we talk?” 


End file.
